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Marcus, Yuval

Marcus, Yuval


Son of Havatzelet and Menahem. He was born on 28.5.1983 in Beit Zayit. Yuval was born a year and a half after his older sister, Niva, and the two grew up together as twins. After him, Sister Ronny was born. He spent his childhood in Moshav Beit Zayit, near his grandmother Sarah Zuberi’s house. When Yuval was four and a half years old, the family moved to Har Adar and after a while Yuval began studying at Ein Harim Elementary School in Ein Karem. From the beginning of his childhood, Yuval was discovered as a child with an independent, original and different thought, who did not take for granted the demands and authority of the adults. He had his own desires, principles, and logic that dictated his desires and his way, even if this path did not always coincide with the accepted. Yuval did not like frameworks, especially educational frameworks, and this independent characterization was already evident in kindergarten and continued in elementary, middle and high school. Yuval had the soul of an artist. He was original and different, unusual among his friends, his surroundings and his family. He loved music very much and chose to study high school at the Jerusalem Academy of Music. Yuval excelled in music studies, played three types of guitars: acoustic, classical and electric, and even learned to play the piano in an autodidactic manner. His playing was professional, and he was praised by his teachers. Yuval played with several members of jazz groups in cafes and clubs, and the group even composed several recorded jazz pieces. Once, in the middle of a math class, Yuval and his friend scribbled in a few minutes a lovely chant: “A riot in the Emperor’s Palace of Tibet / the emperor and his wife are deliberating on a wallpaper that will suit the ambassador’s visit from Brazil / something daring but gentle and noble. / Tear every wallpaper and make himself dead / What will the emperor and his wife do now? – Call the servant because there is a mess / But suddenly they discovered that it was a waste of time / Underneath the lampshade – the ambassador from Brazil arrived on Garbil’s back. In Tibet he is considered a delicatessen / throw me a price! “The Emperor implored / I am hungry and the time is late … / The Ambassador from Brazil, and it comes to him in Boom / There is a shortage of wallpaper! And the wall is naked! Salvia cat / on the wall to the right and facing. / And now looking new wallpaper / grilled and seasoned well served gerbil / politics have time now to speak / But this, my friends, is another story. ” As the years passed, Yuval grew increasingly frustrated with the educational system, and at the end of 11th grade, at the age of 17, he retired from his studies and left the Academy of Music, where he began to pursue his hobby of carpentry. Yuval worked hard to work in solid wood and worked for an artist who worked in sculpture, design and art in solid wood, marble, glass and stone, and enjoyed a relationship of affection and mutual appreciation with the artist. Later, Yuval went to work, for a fee he paid, with an artist carpenter who worked only in solid wood And he began to make his own furniture, and Yuval used to order a Yaffa wooden railman from a wooden merchant, from whom he cut, cut, sanded, and prepared various woodwork, furniture and home furnishings for neighbors and friends. He read books by Kafka, Paolo Coelho, and a book about South America, which he dreamed of traveling after the army, before traveling to Amsterdam and Portugal alone, spending two months in Thailand – a month alone in a small village in the north Thailand. He loved the simple life there, the uninterrupted nature and the serenity, and another month spent withHis good friend at Koh Phangan Beach. Yuval took out a motorcycle license and bought a motorcycle for himself. Yuval was not at peace with himself about the army, and so he postponed his enlistment a few times, but it was the stay in Thailand that brought about a change in his mind and he decided to join the army. In April 2002, he enlisted in the IDF, and on May 24, 2002, Yuval was severely injured in a road accident near Ma’ale Hahamisha, 3 km from his home, while riding his motorcycle. He was in the intensive care unit for 16 days without recognition, and on June 10, 2002 Yuval died at Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem at the age of 19. Yuval, a boy of nature, was played at the Beit Zayit cemetery Left behind his parents and two sisters: “Today, on the thirtieth day of your death, we miss you so much. We miss you so much, want to see you, to hug you, to kiss you, and to tell you how much we love you … like the pathetic, rare syndrome that hit you – you too, Yuval, you were a rare occurrence of life, You, whatever you did and everything you were. You were always unique and unique, different from everyone else, not in line, from your peers. Thank you Yuval for all these years. On the 30th day of Yuval’s death, his friends from the Academy of Music held a concert to commemorate him, and his sister Niva said at the ceremony: “Firstborn brothers always say they would like a big brother. Happily, Yuval always made me feel that he was the oldest of us. I always felt small beside him, not only because he was so tall but mainly because of his amazing presence, which is hard to explain in words. So I enjoyed listening to him when we were talking only the two of us out on the lawn or during a long trip. Yuval made every subject sound fascinating and in my conversations with him I did not feel the need to talk. I admired him as a man and an artist. I do not think I realized how talented he was until a year ago I went to see him play. I was fascinated by him and wanted to get up and tell everyone that my brother was there with the guitar but I knew it would embarrass him. But then, a man from the audience threw Yuval a compliment, and I felt such tremendous pride that a huge smile spread across my face. I’ll never forget that evening. Go, Yuval, I wanted to say that you will always remain a model for me. You lived life as if you knew you would leave them at the age of 19. You took advantage of every day of your short life to do the things you love, and you provided so much. This animal that was in you, the strong desire to discover places and people, is your unwritten will. For my part, I promise to try my best to continue, even though without you nothing is as it was. “From a poem written by his aunt, Nava:” Sixteen days have accompanied you / torn between despair and hope / We will always remain within us / deep within our hearts / And the pain will seep in us / Every day and hour hour / About the loss of your youth / On the sorrow of the family. “From a poem he wrote to his memory, Dudu, Emanuel:” Mother’s Child / Nature’s Son / Elem Bar / Yuval, He / she walks barefoot in our fields / so blessed / like Yuval. // father’s son / child nature / man man / / Yuval, who is not yet cascading, / skipping between us / rolling from top to bottom / twisting up to the waterfall / To the edge of the sky / to the brink of life /// So you went / a carpenter of nature / in your olive valley / Suddenly / wrapped in a wood / pine tree to a cypress tree / to the place .// And Menahem no more / and Havatzelet on Mount Kommel / Aviv Haim Kop/ In the winter chill / sisters weeping to know / touch / to see you / to live with you. // Smutar, his teacher Yuval’s music academy writes: “… I met Yuval when he was in the 10th and 11th grades, when he sought his independent path at all costs, and insisted on building his own priorities. And he, in his quietness, his wisdom, in the real connection with his self, tried to convince us that his own independent way was better for him, and in my Lev I always believed him And I tried to find the middle path, and finally he managed to convince all of us that if we let him alone, he would be Simcha in his election, I have not met him since, and once I saw him walking along the sidewalk near the school. In his short life, Yuval did a lot of things that people do later, and he lived a life full of will and truth, sincerity, beauty and creativity. ” A friend of Yuval wrote to him: “The jubilee was weak and unconcerned, but as the time ran, the little jubilee gave rise to more small drops, and from these drops the little jubilee became a large, sweeping river that did not stand with its grace … The little jubilee was so charming to those around it that other rivers At first calm, sometimes worrying, but let’s not forget that quiet water penetrates deep, and even a small jumble can with a little time become a mighty sea. ” On the first anniversary of the Jubilee, his mother carried a memorial to his memory and said, among other things: “The main thoughts revolve around the harsh feeling of missing life, this young life that was cut off in their hearts, even before the age of 19. In two days, the thought of what would happen to him today, His actions, his plans, the attempts to reconstruct his walk, his speech, his laughter, the look of his eyes, his height, the clothing – how painful and how tormenting. “The taste of life became bland, pointless. I look at the flowering around. The blossoming of new and fresh leaves, the blooming colors and the intoxicating smells accompanying it. I see all this beauty but I can no longer enjoy it. On the contrary, all this beauty gives me great sadness over a single jubilee that has just begun to bloom and blossom, so Yaffa, tall and tall, with ambitions and desires, love and talent – but it is cut off in its prime and is not. “(This page is part of the Yizkor memorial project, , Conducted by the Ministry of Defense)

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